Tippy toes, tippy toes.

I think I’m drowning in myself.

So! I got a new phone. Runs the latest Android. It’s definitely getting better but these so-called “smart phones” are still dumb as hell if you ask me. They’re good for time wasting and social media *HURK!*… just threw up a little in my mouth… but little else. You need to jump through absurd hoops in order to get anything more complicated than that done. For the average person who couldn’t turn on a light switch, they’re fine. For me? Not so much. But it’s a new toy and I like new toys so… yeah, that.

I’m seeing my doctor today for the first time in months. Something like five or six months I think. Some stupid insurance thing needed to be cleared up. But it’s clear now and I have an appointment this afternoon. I feel like garbage though. Good thing I have hours and hours before I have to go. And acetaminophen I can take before hand if I don’t start feeling better.

There are really two things I need to get done with her today:

  • Get my insulin sorted. My last insurance was fighting me on my refills. I don’t know what the situation is going to be with my new insurance but I hope it’s better. Also, I’m going to see if I can get pre-filled pens rather than syringes. My S.O. gets the pens and they’re much quicker and easier to use. I was denied them before because I didn’t “need” them but now I have neuropathy in my left hand (thumb and first two fingers have gone mostly numb) which is making it rather hard to hold onto the syringes and vials. I’ve shattered two vials and have ruined so many syringes lately and it’s only going to get worse from here.
  • Deal with my damn back and legs already! I don’t know what I need to do but I’m sure I need some X-Rays or MRIs or whatever it is that they need in order to figure out exactly what is going on with my body and fix it. If I could walk around easier I would be able to exercise more which would help with my diabetes and probably my depression and even anxiety. I’m sure this all traces back to that time that I injured the outside of my left shin in junior high. It had to have been back in ’91 or ’92. And now almost the entire left side of my body is falling apart. WHAT! THE! HELL!

The older I get the more my body seems to be betraying me, and not in the comical way. I feel like I’m losing my entire self to these body issues. I used to walk everywhere. Now it’s painful walking a few short blocks with a cane. I get winded taking a damn shower! I have to be careful with corn and dairy as all of a sudden, I don’t seem to be digesting them well at all. I was even diagnosed allergic to sesame a few years back. Sesame? Really? I’m just waiting for my body to start rejecting water and air at this point.

I’m cold and I’m tired and I’m sick of feeling sick and tired all the time. This has got to be sorted out, one way or another.

At least I’ve got my new phone, right?

I’m going to lay down for a while and feel miserable.

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Burning in Numb

Has it been six months already? I can’t tell anymore. Days pass like dreams. I’m usually completely ignorant of even what day of the week it is let alone the date.

More than half way through December is it? Not a damn thing has been achieved. I feel a quiet desperation. Longing for a time when I could still feel beyond the exhausting stiffness that all envelops me today. Is there a reason that I exist or is existence a means unto itself? I don’t know. I don’t think I want to know.

So things ended up following the path of least resistance. We’re still “together”, whatever that is worth. Fear of change and the unknown can be one hell of a demotivator. The motions haven’t changed, burned into my very being at this point. I don’t know if I could change anymore even if I wanted to. Yes, I have become a living, breathing human trope. A caricature of my own hopes, fears, and dreams. Do I hate myself? Do I hate what I am? What I have allowed, demanded, that I become?

The holidays are upon us. A time of joy and happiness and camaraderie. Such alien concepts to me now. I don’t feel sadness, loss, unless I think about how I don’t feel said sadness or loss. Does it work that way? Is it supposed to work that way? It does for me. Or doesn’t. I suppose it depends on your perspective.

Nothing around here says “holidays” at all. Just the usual daily grind of oppression. I think I may actually prefer that. I don’t have to feel anything new. Don’t have to expand my existence in order to accommodate it only to have to deal with my sagging understanding the rest of the year. Keep things tight and taunt I say. It makes it that much easier to slit your own proverbial throat when you know every inch of your desiccated humanity.

I’ve been too long. The filth accumulates on my skin like a slick, beige nightmare. I don’t even know if I can recognize myself any longer. Dark matted hair, sunken eyes, a blank expression of exhaustion mixed with a twinge of exasperation. Come, sweet death, the song whispers.

Why does it run from me then?